Page 20

“ G o,” Roman says. “Please, just…fucking go. I need you focused, and you’re not. Take Jude with you.”

I scowl. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Roman straightens his spine, hands fisting at his sides, and his green eyes flash with a fire I’ve never seen before. “You do when you’ve proven you can’t be trusted right now.”

“Careful, Little Prince,” I say in a low tone, taking steps to round the desk. “You might be the Boss now, but you will watch how you talk to me.”

“Or what? You’re going to kill me?” he sneers.

“I might.” Leaning in, I have to hold back the smirk that wants to stretch across my lips as the flash of fear he can’t quite hide shows in his eyes. “You get under my skin, Little Prince. And that’s not always a good thing. I’d be very, very careful if I were you. No one, not even your father, gets away with disrespecting me.”

“Give me a reason to respect you then,” he says. “Until then, get out of here and get your shit under control.”

I tilt my head and just…look at him, wondering how long it’ll take until he breaks. Roman meets my gaze, and holds his own for longer than I thought before flinching.

With a smile, I reach out and run my fingers softly across his delectable mouth. “Such a brave giocattolo,” I whisper. “Voglio farti del male.”

He swallows. “You already have.”

I give him my most feral grin. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” Pulling away, I tuck my hands into my pockets. “But, I’ll do your bidding, Boss. Good luck with Petrov.”

Not that I believe he’ll need it. The Pakhan is only too happy to help us out—if it means he gets his next order free of charge, of course. Having the Bratva cause some chaos will keep the police occupied, especially with the Martellis’ mansion being raided.

Roman doesn’t respond, but I can feel his gaze burning a hole into my back as I leave the office. “Watch him carefully,” I tell Benji, barely getting his acknowledgement before I head down to Hollis’s office.

Jude has been getting direct updates on the situation at the Martellis’ from Hollis, as my Tesoro is shamelessly using his connection to the Martelli network to monitor the cameras in the mansion.

“Anything interesting happen?” I ask as I step into the room.

Hollis turns to me, and the action has Jude, who’s sitting next to him, look over as well. “Someone is going to end up in a sensitivity training class with the way they acted like the sex toys they found were both scandalous and hilarious,” Hollis replies dryly. “Other than that, the only other thing of note is Emilio sending Benjamin and Ignacio away—I’m assuming to the whorehouse.”

I frown at the knowledge that Chaos is alone with Benjamin, but I know better than to interfere. That is a situation I have to let Benjamin handle on his own, and unlike my first impression of him, I believe he can. Though it stirs my protective instincts at the same time.

I built the boy up and saw through the bullshit, but the time I invested in helping him come into his own could easily be thrown away if Chaos hasn’t learned from his mistakes. I know how much Benjamin still cares, even if those feelings have gotten lost in the madness.

Not only that, Benjamin faced the monster head on and didn’t flinch. That alone makes me want to do whatever it takes to keep him in one piece.

“I’m going to go have some fun with that other cop Joel picked up. I need to expel some energy, and Roman practically shoved me out the door,” I tell my lovers. “You’re coming with me,” I sign to Jude.

“Okay,” he says without hesitating. “I don’t think I’m needed here anyway.” He looks to Hollis for confirmation.

“Still haven’t heard from Benjamin?” Hollis asks absently, watching the monitors.

“No,” Jude answers. “Not that I expect to for a while yet, if at all. They’re a bit busy right now.” He gestures to the monitors. “And with the way Lio reacted… Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s put a gag order on his people.”

“That’d be counterproductive,” I say. “Emilio is hurt and emotional right now, but he’s not stupid.”

Leandro snorts and chimes in. “You’re applying logic to the situation when, not too long ago, you were irrational yourself. Don’t cast stones in a glass house, Ten.”

I ignore the little shit, choosing to bite my tongue rather than engage. I’d hate to discover just how good Boston’s training was should I turn my focus onto the boy.

“Let’s go. I need to spill some blood, and I’m unwanted here, so might as well make myself useful.”

Hollis frowns, but doesn’t say anything, though I’m sure he’ll check on Roman as soon as I leave, which is for the best; he’s far better equipped to handle the emotional boy than I am.

Jude pushes away from the desk and stands, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of his chair. I can’t help but admire how well he fills out a suit. His previous protests about wearing one have eased with time, and it’s…a joy to have something pretty to look at.

“Contact me if you need to, and Joel is around, so he can get ahold of me, too,” I tell Hollis before spinning on my heel and heading to the front door. I don’t wait to see if Jude follows, either he does or he doesn’t. Right now, the need to spill blood is too strong to care about anyone else.

Almost.

As I head to the detached garage, I pull my phone out and open a new text thread with Benjamin.

TENNANT

I’m here if you need me, Topolino. *Anything* you might need.

I put my phone away without waiting for a response. Not that I’m expecting one now, but the overprotectiveness currently running through me says letting him know I’m still here—even if my control remains a little loose—is important.

In the garage, I head to one of the SUVs and lean against it, watching as Jude and his bodyguard enter behind me. “You can follow us,” I tell Killian, as I open the driver’s side door and climb in.

Jude slowly makes his way to the vehicle. Whether he’s doing it on purpose, or due to his leg, I don’t know, but the seconds tick down as I wait for him to slide into the passenger seat.

“You holding up well?” I ask, flipping the visor down and grabbing the keys.

“Sore, but I've done a lot of activity since Cristian and Il Padrone were taken, so I’m not surprised. Don’t worry, I can still keep up with you.”

I grin at him. “Good.”

A t my torture chamber, I lead the way directly to where the cop is being held. Usually, I have them brought to me, but I don’t have time for games today, not when I’m this keyed up.

As soon as the door to his room is opened, he tries to jump up, but the chain around his neck prevents any quick movements.

“I figured you’d be bored by now,” I say conversationally as I walk into the room. “So I thought I’d come entertain you—or rather, you will be my entertainment.”

“They know you have me,” he says, trying to go for bored but failing miserably.

Under the stench of his unwashed body, I can almost smell his fear. I can certainly see it. The way his eyes are wide, and how he can’t help but lick his lips, and shift on his feet; easy tells that make me grin.

“I’m sure they do, but they’ll never prove it.”

Pulling out a pair of gloves, I slip them on and then reach into my jacket for a knife. His spine straightens and he lifts his head as much as he can with the chain.

“You can't get away with killing us all.”

“Watch me.”

I hold out the knife to him, handle first. He stares at it before looking back up into my eyes, his own dark blue ones full of confusion.

“Come on, Officer,” I say gently. “Surely you've seen a knife before.”

“I'm not falling for your tricks.”

I shrug. “No tricks here. If you don't want a weapon, that's your call—it's a stupid one, but your prerogative.”

Flipping the knife in my hand, I gesture to the chain and look at Jude, who hovers in the doorway. “Bring him into the main room.”

Leaving the cell, I head to where the best fun can be had, though I don't bother with any of my toys. No, that's too easy; I want—no, I need—something more interesting right now.

Jude drags our friendly neighborhood cop into the room by the chain. The asshole’s litany of curses don't seem to bother him, though there's a good chance he turned his hearing aids down so he wouldn't have to hear it.

Deciding not to test the theory, I simply sign, “Unchain him and then get out of the way.”

Jude does as ordered, and the cop actually looks confused, glancing between the two of us.

“Is this some kind of game?”

I laugh. “It can be. This is where you fight for your right to live. Impress me and I'll let you go.”

He snorts. “You think I'm actually stupid enough to believe that?”

I shrug. “Believe me or don't, I don't care. Why would I lie to you? I have no reason to.”

Shifting on my feet, I ease into an obvious fighting pose. “Your options are: fight for your life, or have your skin peeled off one strip at a time. Makes no difference to me, both will be highly entertaining.”

With narrowed eyes, he rushes at me, giving no thought to strategy or finesse. How sad.

I take a few hits, letting him think he can get one over on me, as I deliver a few glancing blows of my own.

My shoulder aches like a motherfucker, but I don't pay it any mind. The pain is invigorating, adding to the adrenaline already pumping through my system.

I take a hit to the face as my opponent goes for the knife in my hand, one of his palms grabbing at my wrist and twisting, forcing me to drop the blade.

Sadly for him, the move puts him in too close a proximity, and before he can even correct his grip on the knife, I pull out another.

His cry of pain as I grab him by the wrist, pulling him in and slicing across his hand—deep enough to sever tendons—is beautiful.

The knife he stole falls uselessly to the ground and I tsk. “You're not doing such a good job at proving yourself.”

“Not all of us are psychotic assholes,” he growls.

Frowning, I take a few steps away from him as I say, “Now, that's not nice. You wouldn't like it if I called you names, would you?”

“Fuck off!” he shouts. “Just kill me. I did what you said, I fought you; so either kill me or let me go.”

I sigh. “You're so boring . But…if that's what you want…”

Stalking forward, I catch him as he turns to flee, my laugh bouncing off the high ceiling. Surely he didn't think he would get anywhere? He's trapped in here with me and my Little Lamb until I say otherwise. Even so, if he did manage to leave the room, the guards wouldn't hesitate to put him down.

Stupid, stupid cop. It's no wonder one of them decided to go rogue. They just don't make them like they used to.

Shoving him down, I find it all too easy to flip him onto his back. He tries to buck me off, writhing beneath me for all he's worth, but any hit he manages to land goes unnoticed as I'm focused on my task.

He tries to headbutt me, and I barely avoid it, grabbing him by the hair in retaliation and slamming his head into the concrete floor. If I wanted, I could do that a few dozen times—smash his skull open on the floor. Instead, I leave it at just the once, now that he's dazed and still beneath me.

With a few quick clicks of my wrist, I cut his already tattered and dirty shirt open, baring his hairy and softening torso to me.

“So much room to play,” I mutter to myself, as I drag the top of my knife down his sternum, though I am careful not to dig in.

Adjusting my grip on the knife, I begin to carve into his skin, letting his cries of pain and pleading words fuel me.

When I'm done—sad I can't feel his blood on my skin, but I can’t risk leaving DNA on the body—I give into my urge and slam his head against the floor until he stops moving.

I do it a few more times for good measure, listening to the crack of breaking bones, and the squish of brain matter smooshing into the floor.

When I'm finished, I stand and carefully remove my gloves, dragging a finger over the blood on my knife and sighing in satisfaction as the sticky substance coats my skin.

Jude makes his way over, and after he studies the body for a long moment, he looks at me. “Dirty?”

I shrug, staring down at the word carved into the dead man’s chest. “As we've been saying all along, a dirty cop is a dirty cop, whether they're on our side or not. Look at how easily he turned—not on us, but the badge in general.

“I highly doubt most of the people on our mystery adversary’s side are truly in it for ‘justice’. No, they just want to make a quick buck, no matter who is holding the cash. Whatever this guy is using as leverage—aside from money and his precious justice—it won’t save any of them in the end.”